Loiterings in Old Fields: Literary Sketches (Google eBook)

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Eaton & Mains, 1901 - Authors, English - 250 pages
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Page 100 - Out went the taper as she hurried in ; Its little smoke, in pallid moonshine, died: She closed the door, she panted, all akin To spirits of the air, and visions wide : No uttered syllable, or, woe betide ! But to her heart, her heart was voluble, Paining with eloquence her balmy side ; As though a tongueless nightingale should swell Her throat in vain, and die, heart-stifled in her dell.
Page 170 - When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on, as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply may forget.
Page 75 - THE STORY OF SIGURD THE VOLSUNG. and the Fall of the Niblungs.
Page 141 - Oh may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence...
Page 156 - THE blessed damozel leaned out From the gold bar of Heaven ; Her eyes were deeper than the depth Of waters stilled at even ; She had three lilies in her hand, And the stars in her hair were seven.
Page 170 - A BIRTHDAY My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a watered shoot: My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit; My heart is like a rainbow shell That paddles in a halcyon sea; My heart is gladder than all these Because my love is come to me.
Page 101 - Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair ; Forest on forest hung about his head Like cloud on cloud.
Page 100 - Of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of knot-grass, And diamonded with panes of quaint device, Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes, As are the tiger-moth's deep-damask'd wings; And in the midst, 'mong thousand heraldries, And twilight saints, and dim emblazonings, A shielded scutcheon blush'd with blood of queens and kings.
Page 102 - It keeps eternal whisperings around Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound. Often 'tis in such gentle temper found, That scarcely will the very smallest shell Be moved for days from whence it sometime fell, When last the winds of heaven were unbound. Oh ye ! who have your eye-balls...
Page 142 - May I reach That purest heaven, be to other souls The cup of strength in some great agony, Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, Beget the smiles that have no cruelty Be the sweet presence of a good diffused, And In diffusion ever more intense. So shall I join the choir invisible Whose music is the gladness of the world.

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